Chapter 4

The problem with an ancient,powerful, dangerous god weapon being smuggled into town without either myself, the god, or anyone else knowing about it, was that we had to put together a list of everyone and everything capable of doing such an act.

Making lists was an everyday part of police or investigative work. But making this list might be a lot easier if my fiancé weren't in the middle of a very heated argument over brie.

"It won best in the world. Of course we're going with Umpqua's blue cheese," Ryder said into his phone as he paced from one desk to the other. "Why would you think I said brie?"

I tapped my pen on the pad and read the list again. On one side, I'd written the name of everyone with enough power to actually smuggle Odin's weapon into town. After I'd listed all the gods and goddesses, I'd added Bathin, Xtelle, and Avnas. I'd put little question marks after their names because I had no idea if a demon could transport a god's weapon.

On the other side, I'd listed everyone in town who had a complaint about Odin.

Unfortunately, that list was even longer.

So now I was compiling a new column titled: Likely To Do This Now and Why. I started with the complaints I'd heard over the last six months or so.

Zeus insisted Odin's chainsaw art cheapened the aesthetics of the town. Chris Lagon, our local gilman, wanted Odin to shower before he came into the brew pub because he was driving away customers. Crow complained Odin had handed him a pile of fir twigs instead of the display stands he'd promised for Crow's glass shop.

I'd already handled all the complaints. No one had taken things to the next level.

Unless stealing his spear from under god lock and key was the next level.

"Well, you didn't say it was on sale," Ryder put his hand over the bottom of the phone his gaze searching me out, as if I'd wandered off since the last time he'd tried to share cheese information with me two minutes ago. "They'll do a deal," he whispered.

I smiled and nodded.

"Cheese." He frowned at me. "The good cheese, Laney."

I gave him a thumb's up and went back to my list.

"Well, screw you too."

I widened my eyes. "What was that?"

He yanked the phone away from his ear and scowled at it while punching it with his finger several times.

"Coupons?" he snarled. "They're gonna give me a 5% off coupon if we order the cheese now? I can find a 30% coupon on one of those online Big Deal pages. You know what? I'm calling the Better Business Bureau. This is my wedding we're talking about here, and I'm not going to let some…some…cheese squeezers in bullpuck Oregon rip us off."

Myra looked up from where she was going through the security video Odin had given us from his property. I hadn't known Odin had cameras installed. They covered most of his front porch. Too bad the package had been dropped on the other side of the bush next to the porch, just out of the camera's range.

Myra stared at Ryder, who was red faced and making a sound in his chest somewhere between a growl and a snarl. She mouthed: What the hell?

I made I-have-no-idea eyes, and stood away from my desk to go over to him.

"Hey," I said, like I was approaching a snarling landmine. "Hey, honey. Hey, there big guy. Hey. How about," I put my hand on his wrist, "we just put the phone down for a second."

He stopped dialing and glared at me. "What?"

"We don't have to get worked up over cheese."

"Worked up?" It came out loud, and I just gave him a look.

He exhaled. "Okay, I heard that. That was…a little much."

"A little," I repeated. "Just a little worked up."

"But this is cheese, Delaney. Did you hear what they said? Five percent off? For crappy brie and second-rate blue cheese?"

"I thought it won awards."

"It's obviously not the quality it used to be."

I was really putting some pressure on his wrist now, and he was fighting it, the phone still clamped between his fingers.

"Okay. So we'll find a different cheese."

"But I liked this cheese. You liked this cheese."

"Did I?"

"You said you liked it," he insisted.

"I've never eaten Umpqua cheese, honey. Ryder, my love, my everything. Can you let go of the phone now? Just relax your fingers and…There you go. That's good, I got it now."

"Five weeks ago. On a Thursday. You came home from work late, and I had dinner ready. The charcuterie board. You ate the cheese. Don't you remember the cheese?"

I did not remember the cheese. I didn't even remember the charcuterie board. "Was that the one where you paired everything with chocolate or with beer?"

"I paired it with tarts, Delaney."

"Tarts," I said. "That's what I meant to say. I remember they were so…fruity?"

He squinted at me. "You don't remember any of it do you?"

"You've put together so many wonderful dinners lately."

"I told you I'd handle the food. The food is important."

"Yep. And you're doing a great job. But this," I held up the phone. "Fighting with an innocent cheese factory? Don't you think that's being a little much? You know I'm going to be just as happy if we get married in a shotgun shack with nothing but saltine crackers and spray cheese."

He gasped and placed his fingertips against his chest as if I'd just said the most offensive thing he'd ever heard.

"Saltines and spray cheese?" He said like it was, well, like it was saltines and spray cheese. "That's the kind of wedding you want? That's what you think our love deserves? Spray cheese?"

"Well, not the cheap stuff. I mean I'd expect brand name."

He leaned toward me, his face inches from mine and grinned. "You're not funny."

"I'm a little funny."

"Give me back my phone."

"No. You're going to harass the poor cheese squeezers in bullpuck Oregon." I stretched away from him on tip toe, which wasn't going to do me much good because he was just that much taller than me and his long arms could out reach mine.

"Still think you're funny. That's a main stage act you got there, Delaney. Real Show Off material."

"The cheese, Ryder. Think of the cheese!"

I was chortling now, and couldn't seem to stop it.

Ryder had had enough, so he put that big body of his to use and charged forward, backing me into the wall, catching both my wrists in his hands.

I still had his phone, but it was now up above my head.

I could get out of this hold. Could get out of it half a dozen ways. Instead, I stilled.

But as the seconds piled up and ticked away, as our breathing settled down, as I got my laughter under control, something else happened.

Ryder slowly, slowly lowered himself toward me, erasing the space between us.

I shifted so that my stance was wider. He took the invitation for what it was and slotted his legs and hips into the space I made for him.

"Hey," he said, and it was heat and sex, and I was straw under a magnifying glass, catching fire.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "Hey."

"You know we're going to get married."

"I've heard something about that. There's going to be cheese."

The flash of annoyance in his eyes made a corresponding wash of heat flood my chest. I liked it when he was riled up. Liked what it did to him. Liked what he did to me.

"I promised you. You agreed. We agreed I'd be the one to take care of this stuff. Catering." He leaned down and suddenly my breathing had gone thin.

He pressed a soft kiss on the side of my throat, followed it with just enough teeth I had to press my lips together so I didn't embarrass myself in front of my sister who was sitting at her computer typing away and pointedly ignoring us.

"Venue. Decoration. Cake." Each word was delivered with another nip, bite, or kiss. I was getting a little dizzy, my knees gone soft.

"And cheese squeezers," I gasped.

He lifted back, doing a very slow push up with his fingertips since his palms were still around both my wrists against the wall. It made his forearms flex, his biceps flex, and even though I couldn't see them, I knew his pecs and abs were tightening too.

It was sexy as hell. He knew it, and he knew I knew it.

"That's right," he said in his bedroom voice, "and the cheese squeezers."

I was nodding, but my mind was nowhere near the wedding part of the wedding, or the reception part of the wedding, instead veering toward the after party.

Sex. My mind was on the sex.

"You aren't taking any of this seriously." He pulled the rest of the way back, releasing me, and I made a noise of protest. I grappled for his hips, fingers hooking into his belt.

"I'm taking some of this very seriously." I tried to tug him back toward me.

"No," he said archly, turning his head to one side like a spurned debutante. "You've mocked my cheese."

"C'mon. Just…let me make it up to you, babe. I'm super serious about cheese. You were trying to get the Gouda, right? That sweet, sweet Gouda."

"It was blue cheese, and you are a terrible liar."

He kissed me on the tip of my nose then took another step back and held out his hand. "Phone please."

"Promise me you won't go ballistic on any more cheese factories today."

He took a moment to consider. "Fine. Today."

Myra snorted.

"I'm going to make this the best wedding of your life, you know."

"Since it's going to be the only wedding in my life," I said, "that's a pretty low bar."

He looked over at Myra. "Tell your sister to take this seriously."

Myra didn't look up, but she waved a hand like she was trying to fend off annoying bugs. "I am not getting in the middle of this. I have a crime to solve."

"We have a crime to solve," I said.

"Yeah, well, I have a wedding to plan," Ryder said.

"Before you get on with all that," a voice said from the door, "I want you to know this isn't what it looks like."

We all looked over. Crow, who was actually the trickster god Raven, stood in our lobby, holding a headless penguin.